


Meetest for Death

by Kitexa



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitexa/pseuds/Kitexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Erik can't sleep anymore. The moment he closes his eyes, HE will be there waiting for him. He calls himself "Mr. Death," but Erik knows who he really is. "Let me drag you down with me. Let me show you what I see..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meetest for Death

**Author's Note:**

> As of now, this drabble is complete; it depends if I can come up with anything else for this. Given that this piece was inspired by a picture I drew...it's possible.

_"Let me drag you down with me, let me show you what I see…."_

There's a reason Erik doesn't sleep anymore. A reason he lies awake at night cramming every thought possible into his mind to distract himself from succumbing to fatigue, even though his body craves it and his head hurts behind his eyes.

Emma thinks it's stress-related.

Raven calls it guilt.

But it's neither of those things...or perhaps it's both, though he doesn't really know and the not knowing makes it all the worse because no matter what he tries nothing seems to work. The moment Erik closes his eyes, he'll be there waiting for him with a crooked smile and cerulean eyes that gleam with devious intent. His chalky skin glows against the soulless black of his suit; glistening with blood that is not his own. He calls himself "Mr. Death" but Erik knows who he really is.

Not Shaw-although they ask him; he's obsessed over the man in the past after all. But the days of Shaw haunting Erik's mind have ended-he is dead and gone, murdered out of vengeance and buried along with the rest of those memories. He no longer thinks of Shaw. No longer hates him.

The face worn by Death does not anger him as Shaw once did-and Erik knows hate; knows it far too well. Death...Death does not bring forth his rage, but fills him with a heavy dread; a dense foreboding that both pulls him close and draws him away.

"Come my friend," he'll whisper as he taps his temple with his hand, "I know you want to."

And Erik does want to; his heart aches to do as this malevolent man instructs; follow his voice into the portentous unknown. But internal longing does not outweigh a well-trained gut instinct; it gnaws at his side, leading him away until he breaks from his subconscious in a cold sweat and pounding chest. Every night waking later than the last. Every time taking just one step more towards Death.

If it weren't so horrifying, he'd find it humorous; to recognize the face of death as he would his best friend.

Those eyes, that smile...every detail so exact, so perfect...but so very fractured at the same time.

Those eyes have never been so cold. That smile never so malicious.

He'd wonder what could make a man so callous, but he knows better. He's been that man. He is that man.

Mr. Death is not.

At least, his face isn't. Or it shouldn't be.

Erik holds so little grasp over what is and what isn't anymore. Maybe that callousness had been there from the start; he was very self-entered in those days. He still is, although he'd like to think he's gotten better.

He must, if the man patrolling his nightmares is the same man whom he once considered the most important person in his life. A man he used to love. How irony likes to screw with him.

To love and fear someone at once is trying at its best. Terrifying at its worst.

As is staring at a blood-spattered man with a gleam in his eye, a crooked smile and a face he knows far too well. A face he's beginning to realize he doesn't understand quite as well as he thought he did.

_"Let me drag you down with me, let me show you what I see…."_


End file.
